


I Dreamed A Dance

by Bekyll



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Witcher - Fandom
Genre: (slight) drowning, Anxiety, Apologies, Blood, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, M/M, Nightmares, geralt can't sleep, takes place after episode 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekyll/pseuds/Bekyll
Summary: "Do you know what I have sacrificed for you? DO YOU?“ Jaskier’s voice grew louder. “You don’t.”“Jask-,”“Don’t talk to me ever again, Geralt of Rivia.”Geralt woke up, face sweaty from the nightmare. It had been just a nightmare, yet he couldn't shake off the fear of actually meeting the bard again.-In which Geralt feels guilty, learns to say sorry and changes for the better.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35
Collections: GRB2020 Team Works





	1. Part 1: I’ll Wake Up Alone Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the Geraskier Reverse Bang! I collaborated with the AMAZING Zacharie  
> The drawing this fic was inspired by can be found here: https://zmezagain.tumblr.com/post/642386901830123520/for-the-2021-geraskier-reverse-bang
> 
> Please give it a watch and a reblog, It gave me so much inspiration!

I saw you light the ballroom  
With your sparkling eyes of blue  
Graceful as an angel's wing  
I dreamed a dance with you

Geralt was standing in a familiar mountain scene. The air smelled of blood and fresh corpses, his white hair was whipping around his head. He recognized the place. The familiar view and the familiar feeling in his heart. A loud, thumping sound. And then turned around and saw Jaskier. He wore his red doublet and his back was turned towards him. The bard turned around, eyes full of rage. He pointed a finger towards Geralt and started to shout, 

“Damn it, Geralt. Why is it that whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days it’s you shovelling it?” He came closer and now the witcher could see his eyes were red and puffy. Geralt could feel himself shrink under the man’s gaze. “The Child Surprise, the Djinn. All of it!”

Geralt wanted to take a step back, but his legs wouldn’t move. He did not speak because he did not know what to say. He tried to focus his attention to anything else, but he was forced to look at Jaskier. 

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands,” Jaskier shouted and turned back to look at the mountain. 

Geralt held his breath and clenched his teeth, trying to push down the intense sadness he was feeling. It was unfair. He hadn't done anything to deserve these words. He didn't mean to get a child or to curse Jaskier like that. 

But all he did was watch Jaskier stare at the mountain scene as colours seem to melt around him as if he was in the middle of a wet painting. He looked at his hands and saw white, the sky turned grey and only Jaskier remained colourful in the middle of the scene, crying his heart out. Geralt wanted to leave. He did not want to see such heartbreak. 

/ 

And then he woke up, sweating slightly. 

He lay in his bedroll, staring up at the trees above him. It was still dark, but dawn was coming soon and he needed to move on. But the dream. 

It had been exactly two weeks since Yennefer and Jaskier left him on the mountain. He had made his way down, his entire body stiff and heavy as he urged himself to continue. He did not cry, mostly because he knew he couldn't. He forbade himself for even thinking about what had happened.

And now he was dreaming. 

He recognized the words of course, but it had felt different when he had shouted them at Jaskier. He didn't realise how mind-numbing it would be to be shouted at. 

The witcher stood up, wrapped up the bedroll, threw dirt on the campfire and moved on. He wouldn't think about it anymore.

/ 

He opened his eyes and found himself in a sea of yellow. When Geralt looked down at his feet he saw he was knee-deep in yellow flowers. They stretched out endlessly into the horizon, and above him, he could see a blue sky. The witcher blinked and tried to move.

He could move, but the flowers were making him slow as if they were going to pull him into the deep. Something inside him needed to find a place, a little island amidst this sea of buttercups, daffodils and dandelions. 

After some time of making his way to the yellow, his breeches became stained and wet. At one point he tripped over his feet, extending his arms to stop himself from being drenched completely. His head went underneath the sea of yellow and spat out flowers out of his mouth. The sea was weirdly liquid, but when he lifted his hand, his palm was full of petals instead. Geralt frowned and tried to move, yet this time the flowers were holding him down.

He didn’t know what to do, so he kept trying to move his arm. At that moment he realised it was a dream. Of course, it was a dream. But the witcher did not know how to wake up. 

And then he saw Jaskier in the sea of yellow. He wore a teal doublet and was playing a complicated tune on his elven lute. He was lost in his song, his lips murmuring something inaudible.

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled. “Jaskier.” He tried to catch his attention, but it did not seem to work. The white-haired man crawled closer, feeling his arms and legs sink deeper into the unknown. He was finally right below Jaskier. If he reached out he could touch the man. And then he heard the bitter words of a song, singing of loss and a broken heart. Of betrayal and pain.

“Jaskier!” Geralt said louder, almost pleading Jaskier to notice him. He could feel himself slipping away. But the bard didn’t bat an eye at him. It stung, but Geralt had no time to cry out harder since he disappeared under the flowers, waking up with a sharp gasp. 

Geralt splashed his face with water from the forest stream and eventually forgot the dream. 

/ 

Geralt was tired after a long day of travelling. These last few days seemed to blur together in an endless routine with only Roach, himself and the occasional creature as company. The witcher was overjoyed (in his own way) as he came to the tavern, putting Roach in the stables before he made his way inside.

The tavern was packed with people. Geralt could smell the merchants with their bags full of spices accompanied by sweat, beer and piss. He went to the innkeeper for food and a drink and settled in his favourite spot: the darkest corner of the tavern, eyes on the door, back towards the wall. 

He was halfway through devouring his meal when the stage was put in the spotlights. Geralt lifted his head and sat back, focused on the light. A familiar face showed up, hair neatly on his head and his eyes slightly wrinkled from laughter. Jaskier took his place in the middle of the stage and held his lute in his hands. He started strumming, once, twice and then his mouth opened to sing. 

It was a simple melody. Geralt had trouble understanding the lyrics, but the tune was haunting in a way. And now Geralt was nervous because this was the first time they would meet after… after the mountain. He remained lost in thought through the rest of the song, formulating an apology in his mind. Words were hard, but he had a simple yet effective sentence in his mind. 

When the bard was done, Geralt stood up, striding over to his former companion. The man was walking towards the bar and sat down, receiving a free meal.

Geralt paused, shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. "Jaskier. You- ah, sang wonderfully. I just want to say- I want to apologize for what I said. On the mountain." There, easy as skinning a deer. Geralt took a deep breath and raised his head. 

Jaskier was still sitting at the bar, but he did not turn to look at Geralt. He was still eating his meal. Alright, a silent treatment.

“Jaskier, I know I have been acting unfairly to you. You deserved better than me...” Geralt grumbled with clenched teeth. “I just hope to get the opportunity to make it right. Somehow.”

Jaskier was still eating and ignoring him, and it was starting to get on Geralt’s nerves. 

“Don’t you think this is a little childish?” Geralt muttered, glancing at the innkeeper who just shrugged as he watched the witcher get ignored. 

“This is a good stew, good sir,” Jaskier said with a dazzling smile to the innkeeper.

Geralt gritted his teeth and moved forward to grab Jaskier’s arm. “Can you please not ignore me.” The witcher wanted to exclaim, but he was stopped by a cough. It rang in his ears like a thousand bells, and the coughing became louder and louder. And then came the flowers. Snapdragons, roses and zinnia.

He spat them out, surprised by the intrusion in his lungs. And more started coming. He fell to the floor, holding onto the bar. He could see the multiple flower petals mixed with blood through blurry vision and it was like he couldn’t breathe. Hacking up more flowers, Geralt looked up at Jaskier. Geralt was shaking and he shed tears he didn’t even know he could shed. This feeling was unbearable like he was in the trials again. Like he was a child again, screaming for anyone to hear. Only this time he could only utter a weak sound. 

To his surprise, Jaskier looked at him, but his face was stoic and bitter. ‘Do you know how long I stayed by your side? Twenty years. Twenty long years of my short, miserable life. And in one moment you just made me regret that decision. Do you know what I have sacrificed for you? DO YOU?“ Jaskier’s voice rose, angrier, more bitter as he jumped off the stool and reached into Geralt’s throat to pull out an entire stem with thorns out. “You don’t.”

“Jask-,” Geralt tried, but he couldn’t breathe and he could see and hear nothing. 

“Don’t talk to me ever again, Geralt of Rivia.”

His words were as sharp as his silver blade, as if they cut through him like a drowner, his insides spilling open, covering the floor with blood, petals and organs. 

/ 

Geralt woke up, hands grabbing his throat. He did not find flowers or blood, just his cold skin. The witcher got up with a groan, taking in the cool air of dawn. He rubbed his face and pushed the hair out of his vision. 

The dreams, they all came flooding back in an instant. And they had all centred around Jaskier, his face either full of betrayal or of anger. The worst ones were the one where Jaskier didn’t even acknowledge him. 

Geralt pushed through the routine of breaking off camp, he checked his potions and mounted Roach. 

At that moment he made a decision. He simply would not sleep again, hoping that the nightmares would fade by time. Meanwhile, he would make his way to Ellander. He had an old friend there who may help him with his problem.

Ellander was a week away, and Geralt was having trouble staying awake at the end of said week, his eyes slightly drooping. He had made sure to take and finish contracts early on the journey, while he still had his energy. Most of all, Geralt was just lucky that he had Roach who could carry him. 

Once he saw the familiar temple of Melitele, he unmounted Roach and walked to the entrance. He had to walk through the communal grounds where priestesses were working. A few of them noticed the white-haired man and waved. Geralt waved back but did not recognize the faces. 

Inside the courtyard there were a few girls, who wandered shyly in the corner of the room, talking and whispering to themselves. And there came Nenneke, who walked down the steps in an elegant manner. Her face was stoic and she raised a brow as she saw Geralt. 

“And what are you doing here uninvited?” She asked, but her slight smile betrayed the sincerity of her question. “I thought you would be halfway up to Kaedwen mountains?”

“I decided to take the scenic route.“ Geralt mumbled, putting a hand on Roach’s head as she nudged him. “Am I still welcome?”

“As long as you’d like. Just don’t cause any trouble.” She motioned for Geralt to follow her inside, as the young girls took Roach to the stables. 

After Geralt was settled, his belly full and his body warm from the fire, he turned to Nenneke. “I was hoping if I could stay here for a few days. I haven’t been.. mh.. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

The Archpriestess looked him up and down and hummed contently, “Stay as long as you like. Just don’t bother the girls with their study. We do need some help from someone with muscles, however. Alyssa tried to lift the boxes with supplies and she almost broke her back. Luckily there was me to do the lifting.” The older woman raised her sleeve to show her muscles. Geralt huffed and smiled. “We still need some help. We wouldn’t want you getting lazy in our care.”

“I will do my best to help.” Geralt said obediently, taking off his swords and inspecting them. They needed some cleaning.

“Good. Then go to bed. It looks like you have permanent kohl around your eyes.” Nenneke said, getting up herself. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Geralt went to bed, feeling relaxed and safe to be inside. He looked at the bed. The wolf did not want to sleep just yet, afraid of what he would see. But after his swords were cleaned and he washed his face he felt his eyes droop. And before he knew it he was asleep.

___

Geralt was surrounded by people. A white room, overfull, with talking women, men and children. There was no room to move, Geralt looked up, surprised why he was here. The room was crowded and Geralt had to put a hand over his ears to stop the sound. It was overwhelming, and he could make out nothing because of it. It was the reason why he mostly stayed out of markets and cities and festivals. The smells were barely too much in the taverns. Right now, he felt his stomach lurch from the many scents. The sweat and perfume and food and wood and vanilla. It made him sick. Then there was the feeling of people pushing past him, making him bump into someone else who was pushing him again as if they were afraid that he’d touch them. 

He wanted it to be a dream, but his mind was too full to even think. He wanted to disappear, curl onto the ground and hide, but his body didn’t move. 

Geralt opened his eyes again, scanning for an exit. All he saw were heads of hair and hats, smelling of grease. And in the crowd, he saw a colourful doublet, worn by a man with brown hair. Geralt had to follow. He pushed through the mass of people, his arms heavy. “Jaskier!” He yelled, but the bard kept walking.

The faster Geralt ran, the further away Jaskier was. He called again and it made the man turn around, a smile on his face. “Catch me if you can, you oaf!” Jaskier said playfully. 

The scene changed with the bard’s tone. The mass thinned out and suddenly Geralt found himself in a green field. There were clouds in the sky and there were birds flying overhead. When Geralt looked over his shoulder, he still saw the white room with the people, but they stayed where they were. 

Geralt took a deep breath, listened to the wind ripple the grass and walked forward towards Jaskier, who had settled comfortably on the grass, lying flat on his back. He was missing his accessories. There was no lute bag. He was just sitting there, without worry. 

Geralt stood there, watching. He had had many dreams with Jaskier, but they always ended in disaster. Somehow he was feeling like Melitile’s presence didn’t miraculously turn his nightmares into happy dreams. 

Jaskier seemed happy and relaxed, just like their first few months together. Carefree and young.

Jaskier looked up at him and raised a brow. “Aren’t you going to sit and enjoy the scene, Geralt?” He patted the grass beside him.

Geralt did as he was told with a grunt. It was nice though. The sun felt nice on his head. There was no uncomfortable warmth. It was just spring weather. “What scene?” Geralt asked, not wanting to ruin this moment. He would not cause Jaskier’s unhappiness again. 

Jaskier stared at the clouds and pointed, “Just whatever we can see.” And so they stared at the clouds. Geralt swallowed, fidgeting with the belts of his armour.

“Do you,” Jaskier started airly, “remember our first kiss?” Jaskier asked. 

“Of course I do.” Geralt said, frowning. “We were- uh… Somewhere in Vellen. Bathing in the lake if I remember correctly.”

Jaskier chuckled, “Gods, I was so afraid of leeches and I almost fainted when I saw one on my leg.”

“But then I lifted you out of the water...” Geralt continued, looking at the sky, wanting to be closer to Jaskier.

“And you took the leech and threw it away and brought me to safety. My knight in shining armour ~” Jaskier swooned. Geralt laughed, happy from the memory.

“And then you kissed my cheek.” Geralt said softly, eyes focusing on a cloud that looked like Roach.

“And then you kissed me on the lips because you thought I missed your lips.”

“I-,” Geralt felt his cheeks warm, “I still don’t regret that. Even when you laughed at me.”

“Me neither,” Jaskier whispered. 

They lay in silence for some time. Everything was so cool and warm and soft and happy. Geralt never wanted it to end.

“Then why did you send me away,” Jaskier said, sitting up, his back towards Geralt. The world remained uncharacteristically cheerful. 

“I didn’t- I didn't know it would affect you this much, Jaskier.”

“Okay, so what do you think it would have done? Made me jump into your arms again?”

The witcher didn’t know what to say. He had never thought about it. “I didn’t think. I was upset. I was… hurt and… I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d leave me.”

“It isn’t the first time I left after you yelled. And we talked about it before. I don’t take these accusations well, so why did you do it? ”

“I don’t know Jaskier! I needed to let it out, I suppose.”

“Did you mean them?” Jaskier said, bitterly biting his lip. He did not look at Geralt. 

“No, of course not. I don’t even remember what I said. It was- I said it in a moment of blind rage. To anyone who would’ve been there. It isn’t- It wasn’t personal.”

“You don’t remember?” Jaskier huffed, incredibly insulted. He stood up, pointing at Geralt, “You don’t remember? I’ll tell you what I remember. That I am a burden. I have been shovelling shit all over your life. I’ve been ruining it, making you unhappy, making you frustrated and annoyed and very, very mad. What do you think I must have thought of that?” Jaskier was full-on yelling now and he stood up, wiping old grass from his pantaloons.

“I-...” Geralt put a hand on his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. I am sorry.”

“Maybe I won’t forgive you.”

Geralt pursed his lips. “I- I suppose I deserve that. Why would I ever deserve anything….”

“Good,” the bard spat, “Have fun with your shit, Geralt of Rivia.” With a deep bow, the bard stomped off towards the hills, disappearing out of sight.

/

Geralt woke up in the morning. He was well-rested, but he also remembered the dream as clear as day. The talk, the meeting and the room full of people. The witcher felt strange, as if it had been really Jaskier. What if he'd never forgiven him. He knew it was bound to happen, Geralt had been pushing him away the first years anyway, realising how dangerous his job was. But now it just hurts to see Jaskier leave. 

He was working in the courtyard a few hours later, chopping piles of wood for the rest of winter. He wiped the sweat off his brow, but he refused to take his shirt off. There were young girls here and he’d rather not upset Nenneke. 

The priestess of Melitele did come to him during lunch with a cup of water and some crackers. 

“Why are you so slow today? My youngins could do better than that.” She huffed, not unkindly.

“As I said Nenneke, I haven’t been sleeping well.” Geralt muttered sadly, putting the axe down and accepting the drink. He emptied the cup within seconds. 

“Do tell me. I am not here to hear your problems and woes, but I do wish to have more wood by the end of spring.”

Geralt lowered the cup and sat on the tree stump. “Do you remember Jaskier?”

Nenneke rolled her eyes and nodded, “Who could ever forget the obnoxious bard who tried to steal half my girls.” 

“We didn’t leave on good terms… I said… some stupid things to him.” Geralt grunted. 

The archpriestress narrowed her eyes, “What the fuck did you say to him?”

“Told him he… ruined my life...”

Nenneke was unfazed, “Uhuh, and now you can’t sleep because you feel guilty?”

“It’s not that. I get nightmares. They are…. unpleasant. Jaskier is always the centre of them. He is angry and upset and… It doesn’t matter what I say. It seems like I only make it worse. How-... can I ever.. talk to him in real life if I can’t even make it right in my dreams?”

“The witcher, struggling to apologize. Unfortunately, you can't fix this by fighting your way through, can you?” 

Geralt frowned and said nothing, staring sadly at the floor. 

Nenneke took a deep breath and put a hand on Geralt's arm. Her voice was soft as she spoke, “You can’t know what your friend will think if you don’t talk to him. Until you confront him, you will just imagine scenarios and they will always end the same. It will eat you alive, Geralt. It is your mind telling you you cannot avoid this.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me. Ow-” Geralt exclaimed as he received a clap on his head. He bared his teeth for a second, before pouting. Nenneke was fuming. 

“If you are going to be a moping, pining idiot you can’t stay here a moment longer. You are older than me for Melitele's sake. Stop sitting on your ass. You are staying until you are rested and then you are on your way to find the man. Only when Jaskier directly says he doesn’t want to talk to you you can come back. But I can bet half of the temple’s fortune on it that he will want to talk to you. Besides, it is the least he deserves, don’t you think?”

A wise woman indeed. Geralt took a deep breath and nodded soberly. It would be the best course of action after all.

After a few days at Ellander, he left, better rested and more content. He had still gotten nightmares and they had all ended in a crying, shouting or disappearing Jaskier. Or it had been him dying, unable to tell what he wanted to say while Jaskier stood there above him with a hatred he had never seen on the man’s face. 

Nenneke waved him off, filling his pack with fresh bread and salted meat for the journey ahead. She was a peach and Geralt was forever grateful. 

But now was the time to right some wrongs.


	2. Part 2: But Now Until Forever Love

Geralt stood in front of Jaskier. He wore his sleeping clothes like he had walked towards the man after he had woken up. Jaskier was smiling, laughing and talking to faceless figures.

The witcher put a hand on the man’s shoulder and twisted him around. 

“Jaskier, I didn't mean to shout at you on the mountain.” Straight to the point this time. He wanted this nightmare to be over. 

Jaskier laughed again, but it was without humour this time. “Oh really? Then why the fuck did you do it, jerk?” Jaskier said with a push, making the witcher stagger backwards. 

“It won’t be this easy, Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier shouted as Geralt fell through the floor into oblivion. 

/ 

“I am sorry Jaskier, please, I beg you for your forgiveness. I was a fool and I was tired, lost and confused at that time.” Geralt cried, falling to his knees. 

“I won’t be forgiving anyone tonight. What you did broke my heart, why should I heal yours so quickly, huh?”

“I-It won’t. I know it won’t be easy to forgive me.”

“Goodbye, Geralt.” Jaskier saluted, leaving the empty tavern. Somehow all was emptier without the man.

/

‘I am so sorry!” Geralt shouted into the void. “I don’t fucking know what I was thinking. I have been a fool and a jerk and a-,”

Geralt was crying and it made him realise he was dreaming. He couldn’t cry, yet he was sitting on his knees, sobbing like a child. Like before the trials. The bard looked sadly at him. He did not utter a word back, however. He let the man cry and after what seemed like hours, Jaskier left. 

/

“Anyone would be mad in that moment. It wasn’t personal Jaskier. If it had been Yen or- or anyone else there I would have acted harshly towards them too. I am sorry.”

"Are you though?" 

"I- Won't lie. I won't lie to you." 

"I didn’t ask you for excuses. I only ask for a fucking apology.." Jaskier said with a sneer. He left Geralt alone in the mountains. 

Or rather, Geralt had abandoned Jaskier on the mountains. 

/ 

It hadn’t been words that he had meant to say. Geralt knew Jaskier had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And still, it wouldn't be fair for him to justify himself like that. He just needed to accept that he had done it. Would he change time if he could? Yes. But he couldn’t… or at least he didn’t think so.

“Just say sorry. I am sorry for being an ass- no. I am sorry for saying those words to you. I shouldn’t have.”

He shouldn't have. 

He did, but he shouldn’t have. No excuses, just apologies.

No excuses this time.

/ 

“I am sorry Jaskier.”

Jaskier didn’t even look at him as he was sinking in the dirt. Geralt didn’t stop it from happening either. He was quickly buried. 

/

It took Geralt a few months to find Jaskier. There was talk of a travelling bard who had bought a house near the coast. It had taken him a month to figure out where the house was and a month to travel to said place.

And now he saw it.

It was a small, wooden cottage. He could already see Jaskier in the distance. He was wearing a white blouse as he was doing something on the ground. Judging from the smell of fresh wood, he was crafting something out on the porch, his mind fully occupied by the task.

So much so that he didn’t even notice Geralt until they stood in front of each other.

Jaskier gasped, dropping the chisel as he saw the witcher. “Geralt? What- how- Huh.” Jaskier mumbled, standing up and dusting off his pants from the wood curls. “What are you doing here?” He had his lips in a thin line, looking at the floor and keeping his hands busy rather than looking at Geralt.

“Came here to talk. To you… about...” Geralt trailed off, suddenly aware that he could be dreaming. Honestly, standing here in front of the man-made him feel scared. Was he awake or was this Jaskier a part of his imagination too? 

“About what?” Jaskier raised a brow and picked up the large, wooden beam he was working on, putting it in the corner. 

And there it was. The reason he had come here. His entire body was screaming at him to run, remembering the dreams and the nightmares and the long nights of misery and guilt. He remembered the way Jaskier had looked at him as if he had been joking when he apologized. As if he hadn’t been suffering. 

And now he was freezing in his place. Fuck.

“I see." Jaskier sighed, "Just come in. You look like shit. Where is Roach?” Jaskier peeked around Geralt’s back, but the horse was nowhere in sight.

“In the town. I- I thought it would be better if she stayed there.” Jaskier nodded at the answer and motioned Geralt to follow.

The cottage was even smaller from the inside, with a bed in the corner and a chair near a fireplace. The ground was covered in wooden curls and dust and the place was littered with paper. 

“Sorry, didn’t expect company,” Jaskier said quickly, noticing Geralt staring at the mess. The bard quickly started to fold his clothes and throw them in a chest. 

“Tea?”

“Please.”

The silence was awkward. Geralt stood there in the middle of the room and watched Jaskier grab some tea leaves and put the kettle on the fire. The man looked tired, but his messy hair and dirty shirt suited him somehow. He didn’t appear more joyful than he actually felt.

And now Geralt felt like he needed to speak. It was now or never.

“I am sorry.” Jaskier looked up at him, waiting for him to continue, “I- I am sorry for… what I said. What I shouted and what I- I didn’t mean-” Geralt shook his head. No excuses. Just apologies. “It took me a long time to confront my fears. I realise what I have done wrong. It has hurt you and I made you feel alone and it was wrong of me.” Geralt took a deep breath and continued, “I know a sorry won’t help to fix this, but I can- I will do my very best to express it and the...” Melitele's hairy balls, speech was difficult. He closed his eyes, searching for words, “And the-the sincerity of my apology.”

Jaskier sniffed as he leaned on the counter, staring at Geralt with an almost amused expression.”Did you practise that?”

Geralt clenched his jaw. Jaskier saw right through him, “Some of it...”

Jaskier sighed and continued to make the tea. He put the tea leaves in the cups and added the hot water when it was done cooking. And then he spoke. His voice was steady and strong as if he had practised his words too. 

“It didn’t hurt me because I love you. It hurt because, even if we were only friends or travelling companions or… or whatever, classmates or something, it still would have hurt. Because why else would I have followed you if I did not care about you? And then you shouted at me like I had ruined your entire life,”

“You didn’t”

“I know I didn’t. Shut up. Here,” Jaskier shoved the tea in Geralt’s hand and motioned to the chair for him to sit down. Geralt did as he was commanded. The bard spoke again, voice clear and full of anger, “So I just couldn’t fucking understand why you would say such things to me. Even if you were mad. Even if you hadn't slept or if Yen had pissed on your crops, still, that anger came from somewhere. And maybe, deep down I believed it. But it was still unfair. Does that make sense?’

Geralt nodded and sipped his tea, not knowing what to do with his hands. 

“So thank you for the apology. It- seriously- it was really good of you. But, do you also understand why I can’t accept it?”

Geralt winced, taking a deep breath. “I do. And I will leave again after we are done talking. I just wanted you to know that this was weighing on my shoulders too.”

Jaskier pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully, “Yes… however, I didn’t say I could never accept it. I just need time to work it all out,” He put a hand on his heart. “Get it?”

Geralt nodded again, feeling a little lighter. 

Jaskier continued. “I didn’t deserve it.”

The words that came out of Jaskier’s mouth sounded more like the dreams Geralt had been having.

“You didn’t.” The witcher confirmed, not looking at Jaskier. 

“And I have the right to be mad. For all the Gods, I still am mad. Just… seeing you, sitting here so calm without any expression on your face. It’s making me pissed.” Jaskier laughed bitterly. He angrily drank his tea and looked out of the window, formulating his next words. “You didn’t mean it, right?” He asked, rubbing the cup in his hands. He didn’t look at Geralt.

“Of course not.”

“Don’t say of course not. It’s not of course. You said it very convincingly.”

Geralt winced, “I didn’t mean it.” He wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in his throat. “I understand if you can never forgive me.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Now, don’t play the victim here. Just leave it, okay. Just… it’s done. You apologized. I said I would think it over. You have done your thing. Now let me do mine. Understood?”

Geralt nodded once more. They sat in silence, sipping their herbal tea. Geralt could hear the waves outside and the seagulls flying overhead. It was all very calm. 

“So, the coast huh?” The white-haired man said. 

And then Jaskier laughed slightly and blushed. He talked about how awful he had felt the first week after the mountain. And at that moment he decided he needed some time off. He went to Oxenfurt to teach for a while and used the money he earned to go here. So now he was fixing up the cottage which had been abandoned for centuries. He removed the splinters from the walls and bought tools, deciding that fixing this home up would be the perfect activity to clear his mind. 

For a moment everything was normal. Geralt allowed himself to chuckle along with Jaskier's wild tales. Of the seal, he had found and carried back into the sea and the fish he had caught on his own. 

Still, their silence grew eventually and there was still some unspoken awkwardness hanging in the air. After the tea and the talk, Geralt stood up and extended a hand to Jaskier. “Thank you for this. I will continue my journeys now and-,” He paused and looked down, wondering if he could actually say it, “I hope I will see you again someday.”

Jaskier accepted the hand, smiling to himself. Honestly, the man didn’t need to follow Geralt of Rivia across the continent. Not when he was thriving now, being where he wanted to be with whoever he wanted to be with. 

“Thank you, White Wolf.” He said with a grin. “We will see each other eventually.” He hesitated and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s cheek. Geralt was unsure of what he was supposed to do, but he did not have the time to think before Jaskier shoved him out. “Now bye. Stay safe and say goodbye to Roach for me.”


	3. Part 3: Still the Dance Goes on

And then he was in the air, airborne. He couldn’t really fly into any direction. Jaskier was there on the ground, singing as he always did, plucking the petals from the flowers he had gathered. He was crying, but it wasn’t a wail like Geralt normally heard.

His tears were silent.

He woke.

/

“Geralt.”

“Yes, Jaskier?”

“What will you do if I never forgive you?”

Geralt looked up at the sun. It was blinding, so he shielded his hands.

“I don’t know. Keep living. I’ll remember the fond memories I suppose.”

“Maybe you should've begged harder.”

Geralt said nothing to that. Maybe he should’ve.

Jaskier suddenly exploded into a million petals, all yellow and blue. Dandelions and forget-me-nots.

/

Geralt was at an inn, talking to the innkeeper called Jordan. The witcher had travelled through these parts a few times and the man had always been a kind soul, giving Geralt and Ciri his best beds. That meant: the beds with the least fleas.

Geralt laughed as Jordan told a tale about two lunatics coming into his inn, playing Gwent until one had started to cry. Ciri was listening with wide eyes, submerged in the story.

It was late at night when Jordan was done. “Now, it is time for bed.” Geralt said, putting two hands on Cirilla's shoulders. The ashen-haired girl frowned and started to beg to stay up later, but Geralt remained stoic and undeterred. That is until he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Ah, come on Geralt. Let the girl stay up a little while longer.”

Geralt turned around, looking at the face of his friend. Jaskier was there in a new doublet. He looked older but apart from that, he looked the same.

“Jaskier.” Geralt breathed. This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare. Or both.

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you’d be here. Funny surprise.” Jaskier exclaimed.

“Who the hell are you?” Ciri said with an angry face. She wasn’t alarmed since Geralt didn’t seem to be threatened, but Geralt didn’t know many people that were like Jaskier anyway.

“He is a…-”

“Hello my lady, I am Jaskier, travelling bard.” He said, bowing before her. Then he looked at Geralt and extended a hand, “Hello, nice to meet you witcher. I am Jaskier. What may I call you?” He winked.

“Geralt.” Geralt finished with a huff, “Hello Jaskier.” He shook the minstrel's hand.

“Now I am just confused,” Ciri told them, clutching to the witcher’s side.

“Don’t worry about it. Uh, Jordan. Do you have another room?”

“I have a room with three beds if you’d like.” The man offered. Jaskier paid his part, despite Geralt’s arguing, and they headed upstairs.

And it wasn’t a dream. Because Ciri was talking to Jaskier and it wasn’t as harsh as the nightmares were. Jaskier smiled and laughed and seemed relaxed. Sure, he appeared tired but it was probably because he had been travelling.

Geralt went to sleep.

/

“Sorry, Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked up and laughed. “You look like shit.”

“I do, don’t I? I guess I just missed you.” Geralt said with a smile.

Jaskier looked pained and turned away. “Too soon for that. Just… let’s start over.”

/

Geralt woke up, almost surprised that he had been dreaming. But there was Jaskier and in the other bed was Ciri.

The three started to travel together. Geralt’s two companions soon warmed around each other, talking about whatever they had in common.

Geralt didn’t allow himself to feel glad yet. Jaskier could leave any moment, so he did his best to make him happy. An apology would mean nothing if he did not act as he meant it.

And Jaskier seemed relieved and surprised too. “I won’t leave if you step on my toes Geralt. Just- It’s alright.”

“Jaskier, I want to do it. Just accept this.” Geralt said, putting an extra cloak around his companion.

/

“Geralt, you brought me lavender oil?” Jaskier dipped some on his hand to smell.

“And new boots for me!” Ciri exclaimed, her voice pitched high.

Geralt smiled at Jaskier and Ciri. It was going to be a hard autumn and he wanted to prepare them well for the journey.

“You shouldn’t have, dear.” Jaskier mused, his eyes widening as he said it. He used to call Geralt dear a lot. This was the first time he had done so after the mountain. Geralt smiled, feeling his heart melt.

Brick by brick he was building their relationship up, not expecting anything to come out of it. He did not want to force Jaskier to stay with him, but he also did not want Jaskier to feel like he wasn’t welcomed. And they had talked about that. Jaskier had laughed and said. “Geralt, I don’t know how you see it, but I can feel your apology in every talk that we have. And I thank you for it. It shows that… It isn’t just brushed aside.”

As if it could with the nightmares every night. But he hadn’t told Jaskier that.

“Now come here and cuddle with me. I am cold.” The two men curled up next to each other on the bedroll. Geralt ignored the stick that was poking his back and instead closed his eyes, taking in Jaskier’s smell and warmth. He would surely fall asleep, dreaming of whatever horrible thing he would see.

But it was fine, because when he woke he was surrounded by happiness again.

/

“You are ruining your own life. It wasn’t me! They were your words! Your deeds.”

/

“Geralt, you look tired, maybe we should take a break from the Path. You need some time. Come with me to Oxenfurt. Ciri will love it too.”

/

“I should’ve left the moment you hit me in the stomach.” Jaskier snarled tears in his eyes. The betrayal and anger and sadness too much for the witcher to bear.

/

“Do you hate me?” Geralt asked one gloomy morning. They had been travelling for years and he knew Jaskier didn’t hate him. Still, the nightmares didn’t stop. He had to ask. Jaskier looked up, his music abruptly coming to a halt.

“Hate you? No, I would probably never hate you. There is too much good in you.” The bard said easily, but he did not smile. He bowed forward on the bedroll to peer into Geralt’s eyes.

“Okay.” Geralt said. He was tired, feeling like he couldn’t see the real world anymore. Sometimes, when he was too lost in thought he was afraid he wasn’t awake. Jaskier could explode anytime, yelling and screaming. Or ignoring. Somehow the latter was the worst.

“I was mad at you, dear witcher. But I never ever hated you.” Jaskier put a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Are you- okay? Is- does this have to do with your sleeping?”

“It’s nothing. I am just….” Geralt shook his head, not able to finish the words. “tired.” He only said.

/

Jaskier spat out blood, having fallen off the edge of the mountain. His lute was smashed to pieces and he laughed like a lost man. “You were a monster after all.”

/

“Just fucking- Leave me alone!” Geralt shouted. His eyes started to burn from how hard he was keeping them closed.

“Geralt, what is going on? Are you okay?” He felt a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off, opening his eyes and feeling like he had gotten no sleep at all.

How long have these dreams been going on? Years? Decades?

“I just want you to fucking stop. I said sorry, I meant it. There is nothing I can do. If you hate me so much just leave me. Just let. me. fucking. rest, please.”

He blinked and closed his eyes again. He got no response, no angry words. Just silence. Ah, the ignoring dream then. He had expected as much.

But then, “Geralt, I think you got a terrible nightmare.” Jaskier said sadly.

Geralt’s eyes opened and he saw the ceiling. He felt the pillow in his neck. Jaskier was however uncomfortably next to him, not knowing what to do.

The white-haired man shot up and looked at the bard, “Jaskier. I-”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just calm down. It was just a dream.”

“A dream.” He repeated, tired. He wished everything on the mountain had been a dream. Just a nightmare he could wake up from.

“Is this why you couldn’t sleep?”

“I-..” Geralt panicked, eyes darting from Jaskier to the door, to his lap and to the ceiling. He didn’t want to talk. It was hard. It was as if his lungs had collapsed and he was breathing for air. Jaskier was right here, but Geralt doubted himself. So he extended a hand and put it in Jaskier’s. grabbing them with all the gentleness he could muster. He kissed his hands, so soft, so kind. The hands that made music and cleaned his wounds. They made things of wood and wrote on paper. Towns and people and stories and songs. All in these hands. Geralt kissed them once more. “Sorry, Jaskier.”

“Oh, dear heart.” Was all Jaskier said before pulling him towards him, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll be here to keep guard. When you wake I will be right there.”

Geralt slept, dreaming of something he couldn’t remember.

/

“I do forgive you, you know. I am sorry it took so long. I just needed time to sort out my feelings… I-”

“Don’t say sorry for that Jaskier.” Geralt said, doing something uncharacteristically. He walked to Jaskier and embraced him, wrapping his strong arms around the lankier man. “Thank you.” Geralt whispered, almost to himself. Jaskier stiffened, surprised by the hug. But he relaxed and patted Geralt’s back, rubbing circles through his shirt.

Jaskier pulled back and looked at him, putting a hand on his stubble, inspecting him with a smile. Geralt looked away, suddenly ashamed. "I must tell you something." The bard raised a brow and removed his hand. "I've been having nightmares. Ever since I left the mountains"

"Nightmares.." Jaskier repeated, not getting where the man was going to.

"Yes, nightmares. About us. Me, saying sorry and you… getting angry. Rightfully so!" Geralt added quickly. Jaskier shifted on his feet, looking away. "I was afraid of what might happen. What you would say or do or… if you even wanted to speak to me."

"And still you did?"

"Maybe, I should see my agenda if I have time to visit him." Geralt joked, face serious.

Jaskier snorted, pushing Geralt away. The witcher couldn't help but chuckle with him.

"Look, Geralt. I thought a lot about us. About how things were because I knew I didn't want to be treated like… you have been treating me. And that is apart from the mountain situation. You know, you getting annoyed at me, you telling me my singing is bad, you making me walk while my feet ache… And then it got better." Jaskier started to play with the lace on his doublet," Anyway, where I am going to is…. -actually, I don't know. Scratch that. Look, you came to me. I was thinking if I should accept your apology and at first I didn't want to see you again. Maybe I never wanted to see you again.

But you came to me, you searched for me. I don't know how long it had taken you but I assume it couldn't be quick. And I knew you were sincere. You don't often allow yourself to be fragile, but when you apologized to me… I felt like it came from your heart. And now I see you meant it because you are different. Not even in your actions. Just in the way you speak and act. Maybe it's because of Ciri, maybe it's because of the dream- or nightmares. But you have changed." Jaskier took a gulp of air, and raised a hand, showing he wasn't finished. Geralt smiled, amused and oddly proud of himself.

"So of course I forgive you. And even if it happened again. I can see that you learn from it. And there are plenty of people who have said sorry about lesser things and… didn't make an effort to grow past their mistakes. It's just very easy to say sorry and not actually mean it, despite meaning it- urgh, I am trailing off, sorry." Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, "That was not a sincere apology by the way. I will never apologize for talking." Jaskier laughed.

"I think I get it. Thank you for saying this to me. It helps." Geralt muttered.

"Good. Yes… good." Jaskier said. "Now may I kiss you?"

Geralt closed the kiss, putting his arms on Jaskier’s sides. Jaskier laughed as their lips met, eyes sparkling with joy as Geralt lifted him up in his arms.

The two kissed each other again, walking back to the cottage, melting into each other, vaguely aware of sand and sea and wind.

Behind them, the sea was pulling sand, shells and foam with her into the blue depths. Geralt could see it move, the wind wanting to pull him towards her. But he remained steadily on the ground, firm and steady.

With a deep breath, he remembered the words Jaskier had told him. A changed man. Somehow it made him feel happier and calmer. If Jaskier could see he had changed, then he could too.

And for the first time in months, Geralt slept without any dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. If you see any spelling mistakes, feel free to let me know.  
> Once again, this is written for the Geraskier Reverse Bang
> 
> The art this fic was inspired by is made by zmezagain on tumblr!
> 
> https://zmezagain.tumblr.com/post/642386901830123520/for-the-2021-geraskier-reverse-bang
> 
> You can find me on tumblr too as Cob-head!


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